Transylvania
by Sazmuffin
Summary: Rating may go up. When Ron goes to Transylvania to help a new girl, what will happen? ROC implied: HG HrSeamus I suck at summaries sue me RR!
1. The Girl from Transylvania

Transylvania

Chapter 1: The girl from Transylvania

It was seventh year, boring as usual. Since the infamous Harry Potter had defeated Voldemort, the excitement that usually came along with each new year evaporated. The espionage vibes you'd get, walking anywhere in the castle, alert for anything suspicious. Of course there were still Death Eaters out there, but they seemed a little scared at moment, having fled to some far off country on the far side of Romania.

As Ronald Weasley took his seat next to his friend Harry, he felt odd. The atmosphere was different. Something was coming, he could feel it. As the feast started, Ron dug into his steak and kidney pie. He had always had a rather large appetite.

As the middle of the feast approached, the Great Hall doors opened, and in walked someone so strange Ron actually stopped eating.

It was a woman, one of the strangest women he'd ever seen. She looked very angry, and very lethal. Her clothes consisted of tight, black jeans, a heavily embroidered corset, and a black shirt under it. On her belt, were various weapons. A very long sword sheath, that happened to be full. A pistol in a sheath as well. There was a loop on her belt, where a club with a hand balled over a pointed steak. On her boots were small army-like knives, in various sizes. Very hard to see, were under-sleeve dagger sheaths, that made creases on her clothing. She had fiery red curls, swinging as she walked. Hers was a face of pure justice and power, a stubborn chin, full lips, and short, upturned, nose. She had hazel eyes, glinting with intelligence, curiosity, and a bad temper.

The woman wasn't perfect, she was a bit bulky. Her arms muscled, and legs and hips a bit meaty. The corset did show off her thin waist, but that was all. She wasn't a wizard or witch, Ron could tell by the way she addressed Dumbledore.

"Dumbledore! I have business with you! Right now!" Her voice was dripping with a Romanian accent.

"Yes, Ms. Alden?"

"Your 'Death Eaters' are wreaking havoc on Transylvania! We have enough to deal with!"

"I did not send them, therefore I cannot summon them."

"You are of no use, now. Is it not fair that you are rid of your problems by dumping them on us? Or your problem's problems! I don't care! All I care about are my people's safety! Your problems are picking off more of us then already! I will not have it, and I will not murder someone else's problems!"

"I am seeing they are your problems now," McGonagal sipped her drink.

"No, I will not take it. Is it not enough we have vampires? Not the nice ones you have, to mention!"

"Ms. Alden, we cannot do anything. Our young Mr. Potter has gone through enough in his seventeen years, and I will not ask him to go through more."

"Seventeen years? And have we not gone through enough in the past two hundred?"

"Antonia Jasmine Alden! We will discus this later," Dumbledore rose his voice.

"No, we will not! Let me speak to this 'Mr. Potter', for I have some news for him."

"Harry, bring your friends and meet me in the room you went to for the Triwizard Tournament." The Headmaster stood, beckoned to the woman, and she followed.

"Who is she, Dumbledore?" Asked Hermione.

"Hermione, Harry, Ron, this is Antonia Alden. She is from Transylvania. Her and her family have slain the vampires there for centuries."

"Oh?"

"Yes." Antonia snapped. "Which one of you is Harry Potter?"

"I am." Harry rose his hand.

Antonia walked so she stood in front of him. She looked at Dumbledore, and pointed to him. "This is the one who defeated him?"

"Yes, I did." It was Harry's turn to snap.

"Fine, you look a little scrawny to me, no offense. I'm not leaving until I get some help with the situation back home." She declared.

"Then you are going to wait a long time. A year, at least."

"A year! A whole year? I will not!"

"You will, if you want our help."

"What if I bring one, and it's not Potter?"

"Which one?"

"The redhead."


	2. Decisions

Chapter 2: Decisions

"You." She pointed to Ron.

"Me?" Ron squeaked.

"Yes, you. You seem well enough."

"Antonia, Mr. Weasley is still in his seventh year. Going into his NEWTS. He cannot spare this year if he is to become what he wants."

"I could teach him. I learned all this stuff from Mama and Papa years ago. Dumbledore, although this goes against all that I stand for. . . I am begging you to help me. We are overrun. Mama and Papa are too busy right now to help me. I could teach him the art of fighting. Or someone else, just someone, please!"'

"Ron, would you be willing?"

"To do what?"

"Antonia, tel him."

"Alright. Ronald, is it?"

"Ron."

"Ron, back home, in Transylvania, we had a problem two hundred years ago. His name was Count Dracula, and still roams to this day. He is immortal. He and a whole band of vampires live in a stream of castles of the west coast. I am a vampire slayer, as was my mother and father, and their ancestors before them. Since these new 'Death Eaters' are walking on my land, it is my responsibility to make sure everything is kept in order. I have reason to suspect that the men that came, are reasoning with the vampires, and are making them more lethal, but biting them and adding more to the population. The thing is, if we kill Dracula, everything that was made by him will also die. But, since he has so many minions, it is hard to even get a glimpse of him. I need someone to help me, and no one is willing. They are afraid. Will you help me?"

"I. . . uh. . don't know."

"You may talk this over with your parents, and your family and friends. Just remember, you won't be alone if you choose to go." She stood, waiting.

Ron's heart plummeted. "How can you make someone feel so guilty when it wasn't even their fault?"

"It's a gift." Antonia smirked.

"I'll talk to mum and dad." Ron announced.

"Great. I shall just floo home, and come back"-

"Antonia, whenever have I made you leave? You will stay with the Gryffindors, in their tower. There is an extra room there that's not used."

"She will?" Asked Harry.

"Yes, she will, Mr. Potter. Please, will you three show her to the Tower?" Asked Dumbledore.

"Uh. . ." Ron started, earning a stamp on the foot from Hermione. "We'd love too."

As they walked, no one spoke. The Golden Trio were a little intimidated by Antonia. She seemed so. . . mature for her age. Harry and Hermione left Ron to walk her to the room, and as she started to unload her weapons.

"So. . .Antonia?"

"Call me Tone. I hate my name."

"Okay, Tone. Why do you carry so many weapons?"

"One must be ready for battle at all costs back home. If you choose to come, I'll have to teach you."

"What would you teach me?"

"Oh, everything. Hand-to-hand combat, swordsmanship skills, archery, dagger fighting, how to aim, how to kill a vampire, werewolf, you understand."

"All of that?"

"Yes." She propped her leg up on the dresser that was next to the wall to take the knives from them.

"What are they?"

"Why don't I just show you know?"

"That'd be good." Ron leaned against the doorframe.

"Okay." She took out the largest knife and opened it. "This is a knife."

"I noticed."

"They come in all different styles, these are for quick slashing, say like a claw or something similar to that. These. . ." She twisted her arms and loosened the ties on the sheaths on her arms. Ron watched amazed as two daggers met her hands, and she assumed a battle position. "are daggers. Good for if your sword is whisked away in battle." She put them on the dresser as well. "This is a pistol. It fires bullets, mine is usually filled with silver bullets, to kill a werewolf." It went on the table. "This is my sword, Gong." She clasped her fingers around the hilt, and unsheathed it, the blade ringing.

"You named it?"

"Everyone names their swords. It's tradition." She said plainly. The last was the club. "This is a club, you can do anything with this. Mine is made of silver, so I can hit it with a vampire or werewolf. For desperate measures, I once pounded meat with it. Very useful."

Ron laughed.

"Hey, when you're out in the wilderness you learn to work with what you've got. You don't sleep, since no one else is with you. You are always alert. It's terrifying to some people."

"To you?"

"No. It isn't." She turned, and went to the mirror. "Master Weasley, you speak as if you think what I do is easy. I will tell you, here and now, that my job is not an easy one. Here in this safe world, where you have cures and a working government is a happy place most of the time. Our city and country is on the rocks of rebellion."

"What you do just goes against everything I believe in."

"You believe in letting vampires and werewolves roam the land as pick of people as they go along?"

"No. One of my old professor's was a werewolf."

"Yes, but he uses the cure to make himself safe during transformation, correct?"

"Yes."

"We do not have that, Master Weasley. If you think we have not tried to reason and make peace, you are sadly mistaken. Our city revolves around death. It is and never has been a happy place to live."

"Then why don't you leave?"

"I cannot."

"Why?"

"It is complicated, Master Weasley."

"Try."

"I've lived there for as long as I can remember. Once you live somewhere for a long time, you can't just pick up and leave all the things behind. Not if things are wrong and you are desperately needed. It is just not done."

"I would've done it." Ron muttered.

"We all have our opinions, Master Weasley."

"My name is Ron." He corrected.

"Men at home are referred to as 'Master', Master Weasley. It is a habit." She closed the drawer she had been peering into sharply, startling him. "Deal with it."

I love that last line. I think it's hysterical.

Toodles. Cala


	3. Answers

Chapter 3: Answers

"Absolutely not!" Stormed Mrs. Weasley as she entered the room.

"Mum, she needs my help."

"And you need to finish school!"

"She can teach me that. Her parents are wizards. Although she isn't. She just knows how."

Mrs. Weasley didn't speak for quite a few minutes. Waving her hand, she said, "I'll think about it."

"Oh, come off it, Ron, we all know the reason why you want to go." Said George.

"Why?" Ron challenged.

They retorted in unison, "Because you fancy her!"

"I do not!"

"Then why do you want to go!"

"To help her!"

"And that is not a coverup? Let's meet the lucky lady." Said Fred.

"No!"

"Oh?"

"Fine, meet her." Ron walked to the door, and let Antonia in.

She walked to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley first, bowing, and shook their hands. "Hello, I am Antonia Alden."

"Nice to meet you. I am Arthur Weasley and this is my wife, Molly." Mr. Weasley said.

"And we're Fred and George, Ron's twin brothers."

"You didn't mention you had siblings, Master Weasley." She observes.

George mouthed, "Master?"

"I have several."

"Oh?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Ms. Alden? Might I have a word?" Asked Molly.

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley."

"What is it that you need Ronald for?"

"Well, since your defeat of your 'Voldemort', his Death Eaters have fled to my country. And are making alliances with the vampires. We believe this could harm more people. I came here to seek help from Dumbledore, and I asked for young Master Weasley. He looks of good keep."

"Why, thank you. He does come from a rather strong family." Arthur straightened his robes.

"Of course. I'd teach him certain skills he'd need to help my vanquish the vampires. And yes, he could be in danger, but I would be there. I have been trained since I could walk, and know very well."

"Will he carry that many weapons?" Molly asked, slightly hesitantly.

"More than this. Lots more."

Molly put a hand over her heart.

"No! Not yet!"

Her look of terror lessened.

"I mean once he's trained. I won't even let him near these only he knows everything about everyone. I'm very strict. Got it from Mama and Papa."

"Your parents? Are they here?"

"No. They're at home. Working. They cannot help me, because they are inventing things to help me. Chemist, my mama is. Inventer, my papa is."

"That's wonderful. No offense to my son, but why him?"

"Well, I want someone down to Earth. I know Master Potter is as well, but he's been through enough. Master Weasley looks like someone who can work under the right pressure, and not to much anger or emotion to go crazy under the pressure."

"Oh?"

"Yes."

"Ronald, would you like to go?"

"I wouldn't mind. As long as I got to see my family and friends a little."

"Yes, you would. Dumbledore and I have already discussed this. If you decide to come, you could floo to your home every Saturday, for a couple of hours. Then, maybe floo here to say hello to Master Potter and Ms. Granger."

"I'll do it." Ron stated.

Antonia turned, and looked at him. She walked so she was standing so close to him he could feel her breath on his neck. "This is a big commitment, Master Weasley. You cannot say yes and back out later."

"I won't." He gulped.

She backed a pace away, and held a hand out. "Don't shake, unless you mean it."

Ron took her hand, and shook.

"Thank you." She whispered.

The next one is long! I promise! Keep reading! Lol.

Cala


	4. Leaving and Coming

Chapter 4: Armoring

Ron and Antonia went the armory the next day, to get Ron his own weapons. It wasn't exactly like Ron suspected. . .

"His arm span is longer than average. . . ." Said the armorer.

"Yea, no kidding. Get him the longest sword you have."

"Longest sword? Shouldn't you start him out with something less advanced?"

Antonia glared at the man. "I know what I'm doing."

"Yes, ma'am." The armorer left into a store room.

"This is really uncomfortable for me." Ron announced.

"Tough."

Ron was standing on a platform, arms stretched out, and without a shirt. "I'd like to see you up here like this."

Antonia raised her eyebrows.

"That's not what I meant! I meant it like. . . . you up here because I'm up here, I don't know! You know what I meant!"

The slayer laughed. "Yes, I do, I'm just trying to give you a hard time."

"Yea, I noticed."

"You may have noticed that it's really easy to annoy you, because it is."

The armorer returned. He handed the sword to Antonia. "Perfect. Get him a longbow. A fairly large quiver as well. I'll choose the other blades, thank you."

"Yes, ma'am." He left once more.

Antonia walked so she was in front of Ron. He took in a sharp intake when she touched his shoulders back. She eyed him, trying to keep a straight face. She then pressed the blade against his upper chest, to see if it fit his arm span. "Perfect." She removed the blade from his skin, and put it back into its sheath. "You can put your shirt back on now."

"Tell me why, exactly, I had to have my shirt off to get fitted for a sword?"

"Shirt cloth makes the arm span look smaller, therefore the person receiving the blade won't have a right fit."

"Yea. . . I knew that."

"Then why did you ask?"

"It was supposed to be a joke. . ."

"Oh, well"-She gave him a fake laugh-"So funny."

Ron rolled his eyes, and hopped off the platform. "Can we go now?"

"No, we cannot."

"Why?"

"You ask a lot of questions."

"Why?"

"Because I need to get your bow. You are my apprentice, Master Weasley, I must arm you."

The armorer returned again, the longbow in his hands, the quiver on his back. He handed them to her.

"Thank you." She turned to Ron. "Now we can leave."

They returned home, and Antonia led Ron into a locked basement. In it, were more weapons. Daggers and knives line the walls in locked cases, swords and axes on stands. Pistols and clubs were on the wall as well, but not in locked cases.

"Whoa. . . are these all yours?"

"Family heirlooms." She placed the quiver on his back, the bow on his shoulder, and the sword in his hands. "You cannot look like an outsider, so you cannot wear those clothes." She walked to a door, opened it, and came back out, a variety of men's clothing in her arms. Antonia walked back to Ron, and dumped them into his arms. "That'll suit you." Next, she walked to the locked cases, and examined the blades. She motioned for him to give her his hands, making him hold his load with one arm. Murmuring to herself, she looked at Ron's hand, turning it over and over. She measured it against her own, and dropped it by his side. Picking out four blades in different sizes, into sheaths, and then onto Ron's already large load. The small army knives she took, she kept with her.

Then, her legs took her to a bunch of war axes. She pulled out a one-headed axe, and placed it on his load. She looked at him, and adopted a surprised look.

"You can hold all of that?"

"Yea. This is nothing. Try holding back a feisty little sister, that's hard."

She laughed, and walked to the next weapon he would need.

In grand total, Ron's load consisted of two swords-one regular, one broad-, two pistols, one club, one quiver, one bow, a lot of arrows, one axe, four daggers, two knives, seven shirts and pants, and two pairs of knee-high boots. She told him to change into a pair of pants and a shirt, and he did. Not in front of her though.

"Good fit. Try on the shoes."

"Alright." Ron sat down on a chair, and slipped on the boots. The were just a bit too small. "A little tight." He explained.

"Okay," She got up, and went back into the small room.

Ron whistled while he waited. He tapped his foot on the ground, until he heard a voice from the small room. Curious, he walked to the room, and caught a shock.

The room was filled with music-like things. Instruments, stacks of sheet music, everything. She was bent over, moving her hips to the beat of her own tune.

Ron choked back the urge to say, 'Nice voice', and said, "Did you find them?"

"Ron!" Antonia jumped, and almost threw a shoe at him.

"You called me 'Ron'. Something is wrong. You didn't want me to come in here, did you?"

"N-No!"

"What's the problem?"

"Nothing!" She yelled, and ran past him, almost knocking him over. He watched her run up the stairs and then heard a door slam.

"Great!"


	5. Learning

Chapter 5: Learning 

The next day, Antonia woke him up at six a.m. She rapped on his door, to be greeted by a groan from inside. She knocked again, and yet another groan was emitted from the male inside. She opened the door and screamed.

It was Ron, only in boxer shorts!

Hastily, she threw him a pair of pants. "Put some pants on, man! I told you to get up before six so we could practice!"

"No, you didn't!" Ron slipped one leg in. "You left running after I saw that music room thingy."

"I have no knowledge of that." She held her head up.

"Last night? You were arming me, and then you went into that room. I know you're upset because when you saw me you called me 'Ron'."

"Not ringing any bells. Get dressed, and come down with your broadsword." She slammed the door close, and left.

Ten minutes later, Ron came down the hall, the sword around his waist. Later the night before, she had dropped of a belt, that could hold sheaths. She was sitting at the table, eating oatmeal. He joined her, on the other side. She pushed a bowl of luke-warm oatmeal his way.

"Eat, it's all your getting till noon."

Ron choked on the food he just put in his mouth. "All?"

"Sometimes, you have to without food for days. Get used to it." She stated coldly, eating hers fiercely.

Ron laughed.

"What is funny?"

"You just sounded so like my friend Hermione is wasn't even funny." Ron managed to say.

"And yet you are laughing."

That shut him up. As her head was turned, he made a face at her. She turned.

Her eyebrows raised at Ron's distorted face, and then smirked. "So mature." She stood, and walked out.

A few minutes later, Ron emerged into the enormous backyard she had. Antonia stood, waiting for him. He approached with caution, since she had a mildly hot temper at the moment and a very long swords in each hand.

"Take your place. It's right there." She indicated to in front of her.

He obeyed.

"Draw your sword."

He obeyed.

She started to walk around him in a circle, and then made a short uppercut near his jawbone. He jumped. "Never be caught be surprise. You must always be concentrating on you and your opponent, no matter if they are," She jabbed left, which he didn't deflect, "on your left," feinted right, he missed, but by a few inches "on your right," She swiped lower, near the thigh, and fully deflected. "or behind you. A fast learner you are, Master Weasley. We will do this drill every day. You must learn every blow, and how to do it. There are uppercuts, swipes, feints, jabs, and tons more. I can tell you this much, your muscles will tense up. You will be in pain, but you must learn to ignore the pain. Because?"

"It's distracting?" He guessed.

"Surprisingly, you are right. What if your arm was cut in a battle? You couldn't go and get a bandage, in these battles, you fight to the death. Whoever you are fighting, wants to kill you, plain and simple. Except me."

"Good to know." Ron scoffed.

The next thing he knew, her blade was at his throat. "Do you know how lucky you are I'm not that strict?"

He shook his head, scared.

"Most trains would've given you a cut or a hit for a remark like that. This is serious, Master Weasley. If you cannot be serious, you should not have shook my hand." Her eyes bored into his.

"I am serious."

"Oh?"

"Yes, I'm just not used to this."

Tone lowered her blade. "I am sorry."

"You?"

"I am putting too much pressure on you. This is all new to you." She looked down.

"Well, yea, but I can deal with it." Without thinking, he lifted her head so he could look back into her eyes. "I am here to help you. I'll do this, whether or not I can't eat as much as a like." What he thought was sort of a joke, to her was like a godsend.

To his surprise, she hugged him so tightly he was taken aback. "Thank you." She whispered into his ear.

Lots of different feelings and thoughts drifted into Ron's mind. The feeling of a bosom against his chest wasn't entirely new, but when it came from someone other than your mother, it was different. Another thought was that she smelled very good, or that he liked the feeling of her so close to him. Ron being Ron, didn't understand any of these emotions, and barely moved as Antonia hugged him.

Finally realizing what she just did, Antonia jumped off of Ron and stepped back. "I am sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"N-No, it's f-fine." Ron stammered.

"Uh. . . why don't you go have something to eat while I sharpen our blades?" She said. Rushed, she grabbed his sword and ran in the East direction.

Ron just stood there, trying to grasp what had just happened.

Later that day, when both had recovered from the earlier day's happenings, resumed sword lessons.

Seven hours and a ton of sweat later, the two teens walked into the house. Ron was a complete mess. Drenched in sweat, hair matted, tense and aching muscles. While Antonia was a fresh as a daisy. He went upstairs to change, while she started dinner.

When the apprentice walked into the kitchen, fully clean, he saw she was wearing a similar outfit to the one she wore the night before. Only a little more than a strip of stomach was showing. Her abs and part of her abdomen were bare, as well as her arms and shoulders. She wore pants, and her curls down.

"Do you like lasagna?" She asked, sweeping her hair to her other shoulder.

"Yes."

"Great." She handed him the entire bowl.

"Contrary to popular belief, I don't think I can eat that much."

"You don't have to. I'm going to eat what's left. I'm not very hungry. I need to fatten you up, no offense, but you're skinny."

Ron laughed a fake laugh, and sat down, digging into the food. It was good. Almost, if not better, than his own mum's. "This is really good."

"Thanks, it was my Mama's recipe."

Ron smiled, and continued eating.

Antonia didn't really do anything but just sit on the table, her feet resting on her chair, a blank look on her face. Ron looked up a few times, to see if she moved, but she never did.

"Hey, Tone, are you okay?" He asked.

Antonia snapped back to reality. "Pardon?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She answered, shortly.

"Okay, you don't want to talk right now, I'll respect that. Is there any more lessons?"

"Not tonight, no."

"Alright." He handed the bowl to her. "Get some food in you. It'll make you feel better. Always does for me."

"Okay." She placed the bowl in her lap, took the fork and ate. As he turned the corner, he looked back. She resembled a little girl, scared and vulnerable. She took a cup and put it to her lips with both hands, and he knew something was definitely wrong. Ron just didn't know what.


	6. Knowing

Chapter 6: Knowing

"When am I ever gonna meet your folks?" Asked Ron, eating his spaghetti.

"Later."

"When's later?"

"When I ask them."

"When will you ask them?"

"When I feel like seeing them."

"When will you feel like seeing them?"

"When I'm not angry at them."

"When are you not gonna be angry at them?"

"When I forgive them."

"When will you forgive them?"

"When I want to."

"When will you want to?"

She finally cracked. "Stop it! I don't have time for your silly mind games! Go see your family, I need time to think."

"About what?"

"Your training. To see how far I can push you until you crack." Her eyes glinted.

Ron smirked, and walked to the fireplace. He grabbed some powder, dropped it in, and said, "The Burrow!"

Ron kept his elbows in, and was flooed across an entire continent. He tumbled out of his own fireplace to hear his mum shriek.

"Ronald! You scared me!"

"Hi, mum."

"Hello, sweetheart." Mrs. Weasley caught him in yet another death grip.

"Ron, old chap!" Said George.

"We sincerely missed you, brother of ours." Said Fred.

Molly let go of him, and he turned to the twins. "In a couple weeks, I'll be the one laughing when you see what I can do."

"Antonia, how is she?" Asked Molly, charming the dishes to wash themselves.

"She's. . . . She's great. A little distracted, I'd say, though. Hiding some things."

"That's good. Have you see Harry or Hermione lately?"

"No."

"Hermione wrote me about Harry two days ago. He's a wreck without you, Ron. Moping, and things." She explained.

"I'd better go see him, then." Ron kissed his mother's cheek, smirked at his brother's confused faces, and flooed to Hogwarts.

Ron came to the familiar Gryffindor Common Room. He saw no one, but then the portrait opened, to reveal his two best friends.

"RON!" Hermione yelled, and ran to hug him.

Harry wasn't as quick.

"It's great to see you too, Herms." He laughed. Ron looked up. "I know you're angry with me for leaving."

"A little." Harry said, meekly.

"If it helps any, I missed you. You too, Hermione. Antonia is really laying on the work."

Hermione sat down, and made him too. "Tell us what's happened."

"Well, I have my own weapons."

Hermione gasped.

Harry smiled. "You like the idea of a sword in your hand? Feels cool, doesn't it?"

"You should know, having killed Voldemort with the sword. I also have daggers, and my own bow, and a muggle thingy called a 'pistol', and a club. All sorts of things. Although I think Tone's hiding something."

"About what?" Hermione asked.

"Her parents. I asked when I'd meet them, but she would always answer like 'when I call them', or something like that. It's weird. And then there was this room, filled with music stuff. I know there is some significance because when she saw that I saw her "secret room" or whatever, she called me 'Ron'."

Harry raised his brows.

"In Transylvania they refer to men as masters. I am"- He straightened up-"Master Weasley. She always calls me that, and won't call me Ron. That's how I know."

"Hm. . . The plot thickens. . ." Hermione laughed. Both boys looked at her strangely. "It's a quote from a famous book!"

"Figures." Ron muttered, earning a slap on the arm.

'God, I missed them', Ron thought.

About two hours later, he flooed back to Transylvania. He went to find Antonia, but he couldn't find her anywhere. He looked in the kitchen, her room, the bathroom, his room, everywhere. Only when he heard a faint clanking of metal did he look outside. And that's when he saw it.

It was Antonia, dressed for dinner, a very long sword in one hand, and a dagger in the other. The opponent, looked to be some type of ninja, fighting just as well as she. He watched in awe, at the complexity of the moves, the sweat running down her face, the look of pure anger on her face. His incapability to move ended when she ran him through.

The ninja sank to his knees, and then fell to the ground. He saw as Antonia blessed the ninja by touching her shoulders and forehead, and then kissing her own fingers and rasing them to the sky. She turned him over, and closed his eyelids. As Ron walked out, he heard her say,

"May God grant mercy on your soul." She looked up, and didn't seem surprised to see him standing there. "I know, it isn't easy, ending someone's life, and then dealing with the grief. You'll pass it by, all the same though. By the way, this is yours. The closet one in reach." Antonia took out a handkerchief, and cleaned off the blade. She flipped it over, so the hilt was in his reach.

Ron took it. "Did he attack you?"

"Everyone attacks me." She said it like it was a joke.

"Doesn't it bother you?"

"You get used to it, after a while. Are you ready for dinner?"

"Yes."

As they started walking, Antonia stopped, and placed both hands on Ron's shoulders. He stopped, and waited.

"You must understand something."

"And that is?"

"In the battle soon to come, you will have to kill. I can assure you. Show them no mercy, for they will show you none. I know of Master Potter's trivialis with death. His parents, his uncle, Cedric Diggory. You will not end up like that. Those people did not deserve to die. That man," She pointed to the corpse, "did. All of the people you will encounter during the time you are battling, deserve to die. They've killed, and tortured, and even worse things that I doubt anyone could comprehend. This world in Transylvania, like I've told you about, revolves around death, blood, and corruption. This is not a happy place, like I've told you. You understand this, Ron?"

She called him Ron again. She was serious. "Yes, I do."

"Good." She smiled. "You definitely learn faster than most. Most people take a long time to understand that concept. My level of admiration just went up for you. Tell me, how can you understand this so quickly?"

"It's hard to explain. Being around death with Harry, I guess you can't help but think about it. Then there is the deserving thing. I have a brother, named Percy, who deserves to be alone right now. You don't know this, but my family. . . we are not exactly known for our money. Having seven children your purse gets pretty low. He insulted my father, about his muggle appliance obsession, and that if he didn't support Fudge, our Minster of Magic, he was crazy. Something like that. My mother and father don't deserve that. I don't deserve that. No one does. . . To be told something like that by your own son, it cuts deeper than just some other person. My parents are probably the poorest couple in all of magical England, but they are the happiest people I know. It just goes to show, you know?"

"Yea, I do. My family was some sort like that. Except my parents were insulted about their trying to make everyone into a union. Everyone here had their own beliefs, priorities, opinions, and that's good. But the problem was none of them felt the importance of a working government. They thought it would just complicate things. And it does, to say. But it keeps everything in order. I was lucky to scrape up the few trainees I have to help me when the final battles comes rolling around." Her smiled faded into that of a wince. "I won't confuse you with politics, or problems. You are probably tired and achy, I know I've worked you hard this past week. After dinner, instead of another sword drill, why don't you go get some sleep? I know you must be tired."

"No offense, Antonia, but why are you being so nice to me?"

She waited a bit to answer. "It's just that I've realized something. Go ahead, I'll be there."

"Okay." Ron headed up to the sliding glass door, and stepped in.

When she was alone, Antonia sank to her knees. Her hand went to the chain necklace around her neck.

"Mama, Papa, forgive me. . ."

Wheeee. Review review review!  



	7. Classical Life

Chapter 7: Classical Life 

"What is that. . . thing?" Asked Ron, as he peered at it.

"It's called a violin, Master Weasley. People play them for entertainment. I myself have been playing since I was eleven."

"You have?"

"Yes."

"Play something, then."

"Why?"

"Because I want to hear."

"Sometimes you don't always get what you want." Antonia replied as she put the musical instrument back into its case.

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"NO!"

"Fine, you don't have to get all mad."

"Ugh, that is. . . . Ugh! I HATE it when people do that! If someone tells you no, you just accept it and move on! It's not that hard of a concept to grasp!" Antonia grabbed her case, and ran to her room, slamming the door behind her.

"This is just great!" Ron said, banging his head into the table.

Much to his luck, he hear her playing. Not for him, though. Up in her room, she was. Ron actually found himself outside her door, his ear against it. He didn't know why he was so interested in her playing, but frankly, he didn't care. Because wether or not he was interested, was not the point. The point was that Antonia was pretty good.

His leisure was cut off by her opening the door.

She screamed, not having known he was there or who he was for a moment. When he looked back up, she had an unsheathed sword in her hand, pointing at his throat. "What were you doing?"

"Listening to you."

"Oh." She lowed her blade.

"Thank you," He replied, referring to the blade. "You're good."

"Thank you, but no, I am actually not that good. There are tons of people much, much better than me."

"Maybe, but I don't know them, do I?" Ron walked closer to her.

Antonia stepped back, "What are you doing?"

"Walking to you." Ron took another step.

"Why?"

"I don't know."

She snorted. "Right."

He took another step. "Why are you so secretive?"

She took another step back. "I am not secretive."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"I am not secretive!" Antonia yelled.

"YES YOU ARE!" He was in her face now.

"Oy vay!" She turned, walked back into her room and shut the door so hard the pictures on the wall shook.

The next day, they resumed sword lessons. Both were much more fierce, still mad at the other. Ron had exceptionally gotten better, training for hours every day with Antonia. What they were doing wasn't a drill, but a real fight. Only when she locked their blades hilt to hilt, did she get him. For a small period of time, Ron had been memorized by the depths of her eyes, did she shove him. He fell, his sword at his feet. What surprised him more was that she actually lent her hand down to him.

"Good fight, Master Weasley."

Ron took it, and hoisted himself up. "Erm. . . Yea, good fight." For a second, they were so close Ron could see small beads of sweat on her forehead.

It was her that walked away first, saying, "Would you mind starting dinner? I want to go take a shower."

Ron actually caught himself wondering what she looked like while in the shower, and then answered, "I can't really cook."

"You're a wizard, aren't you? Magic them to cook themselves."

"I didn't think about that. . . ." Ron pondered.

For the first time in days, he saw her smile. "You learned something new today, Master Weasley." She walked in the opposite direction, and Ron started dinner.

They soon fell into a routine. Everyday, Ron would be woken up by Antonia, shaking him slightly. He'd then change, and go down to breakfast. He'd gotten used to what she wore to such things, and only paid slight attention to it. He'd eat whatever she made, and then she'd eat the rest. After breakfast, they would stretch, and they start swordsmanship skills. She just started teaching him archery, and that soon fell into place as well. After hours of drills and work, Antonia let Ron take the first shower will she made dinner, and then after they ate, she'd take one. Later in the night, he'd listen to her play various instruments until he went to sleep. Like always, just when things got comfortable, something went terribly wrong.

One morning when Antonia went to wake Ron, she noticed he looked paler than usual, and was covered in sweat. Her eyes traveled down to see the covers twisted and gagged around him like a straight jacket. Her hand went to his forehead, and snatched back.

"Ron! You're burning up!"

"What?" His voice was scratchy.

"You have a temperature. You're sweating. You're pale. Your voice is different. Your nose is stuffy. No! This is just what we need! You have pneumonia!"

"What's that?"

"The Flu."

"No. I can do it, just let me get up." He untwisted his covers, stood, and then fell back onto his bed.

"And you can't stand on your own two feet." She helped him back under his covers. Brushing back his bangs, she felt his temp again. "Still very hot. Is there anything I can get you?"

Ron thought. Whenever he was sick, his mum always stayed with him and gave him soup. "Some soup would be nice."

"Right away, Ronald." She stood, and left for the soup.

Twenty minutes later, Antonia returned to find Ron asleep. She walked to his bed, and set down the tray. He looked so innocent right there, sleeping. His full lips pouting slightly, his eyelids over his brown eyes. She smiled. Like a mother, she tucked the covers around him. Before she left, Antonia brushed back his bangs and kissed his forehead, like her mother used to do.

Is no one reading? sad face  



	8. Dreams

Chapter 8: Dreams 

He woke up, screaming. The dream. . . It had seemed so real. . . . In the dream, he had seen Antonia falling from a cliff, very slowly. Not a minute later, yours truly ran in, a dagger in each hand.

"No, no, Tone, not that." Ron put a hand on his heart.

"Don't you scare me like that!" She muttered, placing both daggers on his dresser. "What was all the screaming about?"

"Is there any cliffs nearby?"

"Yes. About half a mile from here. Why do you ask?"

"No reason." Ron didn't want to tell her about the dream. He thought she'd think him insane like Luna Lovegood.

"Would you like anything? You never did get your soup, you fell asleep before I was done cooking it." She sat down on his bed.

"Why. . . Why are you like this?"

"Well, you're sick. You shouldn't have to do things when you're sick."

"Alrighty, then. I think I'll just try to sleep some more."

"Sleep sweet." She kissed his head, and left.

Ron, completely non-pulsed, by both the dream and the kiss, shook his head. His head then went back to his pillow, and drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

What was happening to him? How could he have feelings like that for Antonia! She was rude, obnoxious, and angry. No, she wasn't. That was him! He was rude, and obnoxious, and angry. Antonia was. . . a little sharp tongued, but you had to be, if you wanted to live in a place like Transylvania. She was beautiful, man, was she beautiful. He had always thought 'beautiful' meant like who had the best legs or prettiest smile, but now he knew. Beautiful meant considerate, sweet, had a good heart, things like that. But how could he tell her. . . that he liked-no, that he loved her?

Antonia sat on the couch, fingering the tip of a dagger. Something was wrong with Ron. Not just him being sick, but he had been acting strangely towards her. Not in a 'oh, you're weird' kind of way, but like a 'I just wanna be near you' way. It freaked her out. She, in no way possible, had feelings like THAT for Ronald Weasley. The question was, did he?

A few hours later, she went to Ron's room. He was reading one of his spell books. When she knocked, he looked up, and smiled.

"Hey."

"Hi." She grabbed a chair. "You feeling any better?" She checked his forehead.

"Sort of."

"Well, you're still warm," She ran her hand down his hair, and squeezed a lock. "I just noticed, you have really thick hair. No wonder you're a waterworks when we practice."

Ron laughed. He then noticed what she had brought in. "What's that?"

"Oh! You're dinner." She gave him the tray, and placed it in his lap. "My famous pot roast."

"I love pot roast. Mum makes some of the best. You got any gravy?"

"What would a pot roast be without gravy?" She replied, and placed a saucer of the brown liquid on his tray.

Ron took the fork and knife, cut a piece, placed it in the gravy, and ate. His head rolled back, sighing. "Reminds me of home."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Yes, very."

She smiled. "I'm glad." She started to get up, when Ron held her back.

"Stay, please. It gets pretty lonely in here. . . ."

Antonia sat once more. "What's your family like?"

"Well, there's mum and dad. They're great. Mum is a stay at home mum, and dad works in our ministry, in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. My eldest brother, Bill, is a curse breaker for our bank, Gringotts. He's so cool. I believe he's engaged, to Fluer Delacour, a French half-veela. Charlie, my second eldest brother, is a dragon trainer here. Well, in Romania."

"We should see him! I'd like to meet your family."

"Alright."

"Keep going."

"Then there's Percy, who's scum. Then Fred and George, they're twins. Identical down to the last freckle. Infamous they are, at Hogwarts. Then me. Then Ginny, who's the only Weasley girl for generations. She's very feisty, own thing going on. But I love the girl, no more, no less. And that's the Weasley's. What about the Alden's?"

"Well, I'm an only child. My mama is a chemist, and my papa is an inventer. I don't see them much, though. They're busy, in their own little world. You know?"

"Yea. . . . Surprisingly, I do. Do you have any friends?"

"No. Not a one. I intimidate them, like I told you way back. That I always carry weapons and is on my own guard scares them."

"Oh, that sucks. I think I'd be lost without Harry and Hermione. Harry is well. . . . sometimes a little hard to deal with. He's still in mourning, of Sirius-his godfather, and his parents. He's moody and angry, but I know he just feels vulnerable. Last I heard he's dating Ginny. And Hermione. . . she's great. Always the book worm, you know? I used to fancy her like so much. . but now I'm not. She's dating one of my friends, Seamus Finnigan."

Antonia didn't reply.

"Tone?"

"Oh, sorry. I was just thinking. . . ."

"What about?"

"Your training. Once you get better, we'll have to drill some more to get you back on solid ground."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "That's not what you were thinking about."

"How do you know?"

"Well, for one, you had this dreamy look on your face. . . I don't know. All I know is that my training wasn't what you were thinking about."

Hello again! R/R!


	9. Meeting Charlie

Chapter 9: Meeting Charlie

Just like he promised, the next day, Antonia and Ron went to go see Charlie. He had felt good enough to apperate, so they left.

They emerged near a small housing facility, that was near an arena the size of at least five football fields. There, were at least twenty dragons, all being trained by various people. A flash of red hair flickered in Ron's vision, and followed it.

Him and Antonia then came upon the tall and muscular mas that was Charlie Weasley. Him, completely and utterly surprised, was speechless.

"Ron? Aren't you supposed to be at Hogwarts?"

"No, I've been living in Transylvania."

"Oh, right. That one fighter chica asked you to come with her to fight off Voldemort's Death Eaters."

Antonia waved her hand at him. "I'm that 'fighter chica'."

"Oh, excuse me! Hello, I'm Charlie Weasley, Ron's older brother. You must be Antonia?"

"Yes. Master Weasley was telling me about his family, and he said you were in Romania, and I thought we should visit you. I've always wanted to see what it's like working with dragons."

Charlie was speechless. No one he knew had a passion like his about dragons. "Wow, um. . . Would you like to try?"

"I don't exactly think I could, since I'm not a witch. I know what to do to do magic, I just don't know how. Squib-like, I guess."

"Oh." Charlie's smiled evaporated. "Do you and Ron want to watch? It's a lot better live."

"Sure."

He led them to a small bench that was a safe distance away for them to watch. Charlie already had been training a dragon, so he brought that one out. It was a Chinese Fireball, pretty vicious to say.

Charlie dodged fire breath after fire breath. He couldn't get a clear aim. It was a wild dragon, caught only the month before in the Chinese mountains. After a while of not getting anywhere, he put the dragon back along with a few of his mates help. He then introduced his friends to Ron and Antonia.

"Ron, this is Jon, Mike, Matt, Brad, and Dustin. There are more of us, but they are all too pompous to hang with. Mates, this is my brother and his. . . what would you call her? Trainer, professor, armorer?"

"You can call me Antonia Alden. Or Tone. I don't care." She said.

"Okay," Said Mike, sweeping long black bangs from his eyes.

"So, Tone, what is exactly that you do? Train people?" Asked Brad.

"Well, no. I'm training Master Weasley because I need his help. I'm a slayer. Vampires, werewolves. Not dragons, since the easiest way is to get them with magic, and I don't have magic. Well, I do, sort of. My mama is teaching me to heal. Bruises, cuts, scrapes, burns. It's somewhat like magical healing, but different. I won't get into the details, since I barely understand it either."

The dragon trainers laughed. "Let's see your skills. You do archery, yes?" Asked Jon.

"You know it."

"How about a shoot off?"

"You're on."

The seven people walked to the lounge area where Jon shot his arrows. Charlie handed her a bow. It was a crossbow.

"Do you have a longbow? I try to use crossbow the least."

"You'll never be able to string that." Retorted Dustin.

"Just give me the bow."

"Alright, alright, you can use mine." He handed his bow to her.

"Watch me." To their surprise, she strung it with expertise ability.

"Get the bulls eye three times in a row, you win. If you don't, I win."

"What do I win if I win?"

"A date with Charlie. It's obvious he fancies you." Matt elbowed him. Charlie looked down, not wanting anyone to see his blush.

"And if you win? Do you want a date with Charlie too?" She said.

"No! I get a date with you." He said, simply.

"Deal."

"Ladies first."

"Alright." She took an arrow from Charlie, placed it on the string, and loosed. The arrow shot forward, hitting the red mark.

"One perfect. Two more."

Antonia smirked, and took another arrow, and loosed. Once again, perfect shot.

Jon was beginning to look worried. He actually wanted that date, he had no idea she'd agree to it.

One last time, she loosed, and once again, a perfect shot.

"Damn!" He cursed.

Antonia walked to Jon, and kissed his cheek. "It's okay. I'll leave you open." She then went to Charlie, who looked up. Antonia got on her tippy toes to whisper into his ear, "Pick me up at seven." Like Jon, she kissed his cheek. Not a few moments later, she and Ron left.

During the match, Ron was speechless. Not only that she shot like a pro, but that she now had a date with his brother! He got a kiss!

"Shoulda made my move. . ." Ron muttered.

"What was that, Master Weasley?" Antonia asked.

"Oh, nothing."

"I need your help with something." She told him.

"Anything."

"Come with me, then." She grabbed his hand, and led him to her room.

"What exactly are we going to do?" His heart beat quickened.

Antonia rolled her eyes, and went to her closet. "I need help on what to wear. He's your brother. What do Weasley men like?"

"Well, anything, I suppose. I suggest that outfit you wore my first day here at dinner."

"So you liked that, did you?" She cocked an eyebrow.

"It did look good on you. . . ."

"Okay." She shooed him out and Antonia changed.

At seven, her doorbell rang. Ron, knowing who it was, answered the door, to see Charlie, wearing black slacks and a slightly tight black polo.

"Hey, Charlie. Antonia's almost done."

"Hi, Ron." Neither of them moved. "May I come in?"

"Oh, yes, yes, sorry."

"No worries, you always have been the scatterbrained type."

Ron punched his arm. "Am not."

"No, but you seem to have gotten stronger. That actually hurt." Charlie rubbed his arm.

Neither of them noticed, by Antonia had walked down the stairs, and stood at the middle one. Charlie looked up, and gasped. Not long after him, did Ron. She looked as beautiful as ever.

Her hair, done in an elegant bun, with a few strands hanging near her face. She wore some make-up, the first time he had seen her with it on. Light eyeliner and mascara, with a champagne and dark brown eyeshadow splashed on her lids and brow bone.

"Antonia, you look. . . ." Charlie trailed off.

"Beautiful." Ron murmured.

Woot. R/R!  



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